Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1216 Mail

Around Ross, chaos reigned in miniature—soldiers and civilians rushed to his side, shouting, prodding, and doing everything in their power to revive him.

Some slapped his cheeks, others poured water on him, while a few called out frantic instructions to keep him conscious.

They had no idea that every move they made, every desperate attempt to bring him back to the pink of health, was exactly what he wanted them to do.

Their panic and worry fueled the illusion of exhaustion, making him appear vulnerable and human, when in reality, every fiber of his being remained sharp, alert, and fully in control.

Ross allowed himself to linger in the act for a moment longer, relishing the thought of how this simple deception would make their relief and awe all the more potent once they realized the truth.

To them, he was a hero who had poured himself dry for their sake.

To him, it was merely another step in ensuring their survival—and, of course, enjoying the little advantages his sacrifice granted him.

Even as hands shook him gently, voices pleaded for him to stay awake, and tears welled in some of the civilians’ eyes, Ross’s mind wandered lightly, already calculating, already preparing for the next phase.

The scene around him—the fear, the frantic energy, the gratitude mixed with disbelief—was almost entertaining.

***

Morning finally arrived, pale sunlight spilling over the remnants of the base and the surrounding city.

The air was thick with dust, smoke, and the faint, lingering stench of death from the previous night’s chaos.

Even so, the survivors moved about in a mixture of exhaustion, disbelief, and cautious relief, and the name on everyone’s lips was the same: Ross.

”Is it true? He saved millions of people in just one night?” a young soldier asked, his voice shaking.

He had been on the front lines, seen the carnage firsthand, and still struggled to process it.

”I heard it’s true,” replied a nearby medic, wiping soot from her face. ”And the rest of the people... he didn’t just dump them here. He sent them to other unaffected areas. There weren’t enough beds or supplies to hold everyone, even here.”

”Ross... he actually did it,” muttered a veteran soldier, shaking his head in awe. ”He practically saved millions of lives... in a single night. That’s... that’s impossible.”

Civilians who had been rescued whispered among themselves, sharing fragments of their harrowing experience.

They spoke of sudden darkness, the endless groans of the undead, and the inexplicable appearance of a figure who blinked in and out of danger, ferrying people to safety with terrifying speed.

They remembered seeing him move like a shadow, a storm of calm precision in the midst of chaos, and yet there was no malice in his eyes—only focus, determination, and a quiet, almost playful confidence.

Even with these stories spreading, the evidence of destruction was undeniable.

Streets were littered with debris and rubble; buildings had been partially or entirely leveled by the sheer force of the undead onslaught.

Fires burned in abandoned districts, and bodies—both human and monstrous—were scattered across the landscape.

Videos and images were already circulating on what remained of the internet, showing evolved zombies tearing through soldiers and civilians alike as if they were mere grass to be cut down.

Their movements were unnatural, frightening, and horrifyingly precise.

Watching the carnage made stomachs turn, even for those who had survived the apocalypse for more than a year.

They had become numb to death, hardened by countless battles and tragedies, yet the scale of this event was staggering.

News from surrounding regions trickled in. Reports confirmed what the base survivors were saying: Ross had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, rescuing entire convoys of civilians, reinforcements, and military squads, placing them safely in locations untouched by the zombie hordes.

Commanders at other bases could barely believe the numbers.

Satellites recorded flashes of movement too fast to track, and yet, when checked later, no casualties were reported among those rescued.

The contrast between destruction and salvation only made his feat more incredible.

Soldiers compared notes, civilians gawked at their surroundings, and even hardened veterans could not hide the awe in their eyes.

Discussions swirled everywhere:

”Did you see him? He just... blinked in and out of danger. Took entire squads at a time!”

”And civilians—he didn’t leave anyone behind.”

”I can’t even imagine the energy it took. One night? One night, and he did all this?”

”Some say he’s not even human... that he’s a monster or a god.”

Even those who had been on the front lines, who had been desensitized to violence and death, felt a tremor of fear mixed with reverence.

The rumors of evolved zombies were terrifying enough, but the fact that Ross had confronted them all and survived, saving thousands, made it clear that he was a being far beyond ordinary comprehension.

For the survivors, a new kind of hope began to grow, fragile but undeniable.

If someone like Ross existed—someone capable of turning the tide of impossible battles—then perhaps humanity had a chance after all.

Yet, that hope was accompanied by an unspoken truth: the world had changed forever.

Destruction, death, and chaos were no longer anomalies—they were the new normal.

And only those with the strength, speed, and cunning of Ross could truly stand against it.

As the day stretched on, people continued to talk, share stories, and replay footage of the horrors and the rescues.

Soldiers and civilians alike spread the tale across every surviving communication channel, from radios to hacked internet feeds.

In living rooms, command centers, and makeshift shelters, the same words were whispered in disbelief: Ross.

The man, the figure, the savior who had single-handedly altered the course of the apocalypse.

And somewhere, beyond the rubble and chaos, those who had survived last night’s carnage began to realize that life had already shifted irrevocably.

The balance had changed, and one name—Ross—was now synonymous with salvation, power, and the fragile hope that humanity could still endure.

And, of course, the base commander was among the countless people who personally thanked Ross for his extraordinary efforts in more ways than one.